The wonderful Monarchy of Genovia
by DaughterofDemeter123
Summary: Aimon Cordel Alvarez was not a normal man. Mia knew this for certain. The guy barely looked twenty- even younger than her, and yet there he was. Strolling around the royal palace like it was the most normal thing in the world. Now a Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Greetings, random person. This is probably the second weirdest crossover I've ever written, but it had to be done.**

**Seriously, my brain threatened to implode. ONWARD!**

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><p>Aimon Cordel Alvarez was not a normal man.<p>

Mia knew this for certain. The guy barely looked twenty- even younger than her, and yet there he was. Strolling around the royal palace like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Not that _she _didn't do exactly the same thing on a regular basis, but that didn't count- as far as she knew, he wasn't royalty. Or a servant. Or a guard. In fact, he didn't actually seem to have any sort of role at all. He was just _there_.

Grandma always allowed him into the meetings with the Parliament. In fact, wherever Grandma went, you wouldn't see Aimon too far away.

And then there were his friends! He had many, and he almost always had one over to visit. Like that cheery Spainard who always seemed to have a tomato on hand, and the grumpy, foul-mouthed Itallian guy, and the blonde French man that groped anyone within reach- male or female.

Frankly, not knowing why he was there was torture. Whenever she tried to bring the subject up, Grandma just smiled and assured her that he was very important and his presence was absolutely crucial.

She never seemed to get a straight answer.

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><p>Aimon wasn't too sure about his current princess.<p>

She was intelligent, as all princesses should be, and kind. But she was clumsy. Very clumsy. And he couldn't forget about how she had that horrible knack for getting into trouble.

_Well, _he reasoned with himself, _at least she won't be boring._

She certainly wouldn't be. No one who could throw a slumber party that included mattress surfing was. Rupert (may he rest in peace) totally proved that. But he had always been a bit paranoid.

It was probably the fact that she was born and raised in America that really worried him. Would she make a good leader? Would she treat their people with respect?

Was he making a mistake?

No, of course not. Mia was a fine girl. She was his Princess, his next boss. He was just being paranoid again.

After all, she was a Renaldi. If there was one thing he knew about Renaldis, it was that they always came through in the end.

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><p>"Who are you?"<br>"Aimon Cordel Alvarez, princess. At your grandmother's service."  
>"Riiiight."<p>

Their first meeting was a moment she could remember very clearly. It had happened the moment she had gotten out of the airplane, where he'd been waiting impatiently.

It seemed that he was a bit bipolar, too. One minute he acted like he had a stick planted very far up his butt, then he'd flirt with the maids and act like a farmer. He'd also play football with anyone ranging from Grandma to Fat Louie_._

Weird guy.

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><p><em>"Presenting; her Majesty, Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldi, Queen of Genovia."<em>

He couldn't keep the grin off his face. The joy of his people was radiating all around him. Their new queen was certainly popular, wasn't she?

His ex-boss was thrilled, clinging to he husband's arm, her eyes shining with pride for her granddaughter. Perhaps she wasn't as bad as he'd worried. She was holding herself proud and high, walking with a grace that was befitting for a queen.

Mia would make a fine ruler. And soon she would learn the whole truth about her country.

He snickered quietly to himself. Oh man. She was in for a surprise tonight!

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><p><strong>Name: The Monarchy of Genovia<br>Human name: Aimon Cordel Alvarez  
>Official language: Italian<strong>

**Height: 5' 8.5"  
>Weight: 142.5 pounds<strong>

**Hair color: Dark brown  
>Eye color: Blue <strong>

**History: When he was very young, Genovia was raised by Spain along with Southern Italy (he actually lost a bet against Romano, that's why his official language is Italian). He was happy (sorta), until France captured him to raise him along with Canada. However, he and Canada were both conquered and became colonies of England, resulting in having many gentlemanly facts pounded into his head daily. He declared his freedom quickly after growing strong enough to defend himself, and that is what made him who he is today.**

**Likes: Pears, pear flavored things, flirting, his national anthem, European football  
>Dislikes: Snakes, bad rulers, poodles<strong>

**OCs are fun to make, and I really couldn't help myself on this one. Review~!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Due to popular demand, this story is now a Two-shot. Give a cheer, readers. Give a cheer.**

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><p>"Oh boss~!" A voice rang out in Mia's ear. "Wake up."<p>

The tired queen blinked groggily. "Who?"

"You sound like you just saw Canada."  
>"What?"<br>"... I don't remember. Weird."

Rubbing the foggy sleepiness out of her eyes, Mia gave a little yelp.

Aimon was standing at her bedside, an light blush on his face.

"What time is it? Why are you here?" She watched Aimon through sleepy eyes. He sighed.

"Hm. I hate this part of my career. No one ever believes it."

"What?" The young queen was growing impatient.

"I'm not what you'd call 'normal'. You noticed it, boss. Royalty always does."

Mia stared at him blankly. He sighed again.

"I suppose I'll just 'drop the bucket'. That's what that idiotic American says, right?" He mumbled the last bit to himself. Turning back to Mia, he smiled apologetically. "Sorry, this has always been difficult for me to say."

She nodded, silently urging him to just tell her whatever he wanted to tell her so she could sleep.

"Well, each country has a; representative, I guess you could call it. These representatives, like humans, eat, sleep, argue among themselves. The difference is, well, they _are _the countries. They are the land. The people. The culture. They live for as long as their countries stand. Living for hundreds of years, sometimes thousands, their appearances hardly changing. I am one of these; um, representatives."

"So you're-"

"The Monarchy of Genovia." He bowed. "I hope you take good care of me, boss."

"..."  
>"Boss?"<br>"_Shut. Up._"

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><p>After learning the truth about the countries, Mia's life was hectic. Well, <em>more<em> hectic. She was a queen, after all, and there was always a new law to pass or another meeting to plan.

Genovia, as she'd begun to call him, was a big help with the tremendous amount of paperwork that seemed to spawn out of nowhere. He followed her around, just like he used to follow grandma, and advised her about anything the country needed.

However, as she quickly learned, being his queen pretty much made her his official babysitter.

If his friend, Southern Italy (he insisted on being called Romano) came over and started an argument about their fruit preferences, she had to defuse it before their bickering started a war.

When France visited, she had to make sure the blonde's hands stayed where they should be. Groping caused problems with the economy.

During Spain's (who claimed to be Genovia's older brother) frequent visits, she was often forced to taste test odd dishes containing both tomatoes and pears. If she spotted them lurking by the kitchens, she learned to walk away slowly and pretend it hadn't happened.

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><p>And then Genovia decided to invite over all of the nations he was raised bygrew up with/fond of for a slumber party.

That pretty much translated into half of europe and a good portion of Asia and the Americas.

Most of them just wanted to use the infamous mattress slide the whole night, while others wanted to go bug the guards. Genovia seemed to be thriving in the chaos, and handed out pear-flavored treats to everyone.

It was still going strong when she crawled into bed. And it was loud. Loud enough to hear from her bedroom. Mia sighed before storming back downstairs.

"Genovia!"  
>"Yes, boss?"<br>"Bed. Now."

There were sounds of protest from her nation's guests.

"Aw, dude! I'm not tired at all!"  
>"Kesesesese! I'm too awesome to sleep."<br>"Ve~ I need some bedtime pasta first."

Luckily, she'd come prepared. From behind her, several guards emerged and began to glare at the nations in a way that just says "go-to-bed-right-now-or-you'll-be-pwned-with-our-staffs"

The lights were off within the next ten minutes.


End file.
